The Tale of Maxiey
by Sou7h
Summary: Follow Maxiey the hobbe as he undergoes trials, tribulations and other equally horrible things that start with 't' on his quest to become human. Pretty much on hiatus might update when I feel like writing something silly
1. It's a Hobbe's Life

**disclaimer: **I don't own anything from fable.

Maxiey was a hobbe.

Maxiey did not choose to be a hobbe. Maxiey did not want to be a hobbe. Maxiey did not want to be a hobbe because hobbes, in his opinion anyway, were no good for anything except looking ugly and assaulting the occasional trader. Hobbes had no purpose in life. Maxiey wanted a purpose in life.

Maxiey the hobbe kept this secret desire of his to himself, however. Maxiey was born and bred in the Hobbe Cave at the end of Greatwood and had never been anywhere else. Maxiey would wander the caves of his home with his hobbe friends, guarding the loot they had stolen from wandering traders. Maxiey's parents were very proud.

Today, Maxiey found a small boy trying to steal some gold. As any good hobbe would do, Maxiey turned the human over to the hands of Trixie the Pixie.

Trixie the Pixie was the boss of all the hobbes. Although she was smaller than the hobbes and semi-transparent-looking in the darkness, she was very powerful. At least the hobbes thought so. She also had a creepy giggle.

"Excellent. We will sacrifice this innocent," Trixie the Pixie said.

"I don't want to die!" The boy screamed in a high-pitched voice, wetting his pants.

It was then that Maxiey discovered he could understand humans.

Maxiey would have liked to stay and perhaps further expand his knowledge, but his fellow hobbes required help subduing another human thief. This one was armed.

Maxiey did not see what the problem was though; since the bandit was so weak one or two hobbes could have taken him instead of five. But hobbes were never good at counting.

And so it was Maxiey and company's duty to keep guard over the prisoner. Maxiey was eager to learn more human speak, but was disappointed when he found out the bandit was only capable of yelling one phrase over and over again.

The day was almost getting boring when yet another human entered. This was a special day. Maxiey had never seen so many live humans in his hobbe life, let alone all in one day.

All of Maxiey's friends rushed forwards but the human had lots of armour and big weapons. After seeing his friends being reduced to glowing green orbs so quickly, Maxiey tried to run away, emptying his little hobbe bowels as he went. Despite his short stubby legs, Maxiey escaped the fate of his friends.

Maxiey exited the chamber and followed the powerful human and the escaped prisoner at a distance. They went deeper into the cave and almost everyone froze as the human fighter opened two chests of gold. Then they finally reached the Focus Chamber.

Maxiey watched, spellbound as the warrior defeated Trixie the Pixie, unintimidated by the creepy giggle. The human rescued the boy and Maxiey was careful to stay out of the way as the trio exited the Hobbe Cave alive.

After the whole affair, all the hobbes debated what to do without Trixie the Pixie. The debate went nowhere since the hobbes kept getting off-topic. Along with two chests' worth of gold, the thieves had also stolen a Will Master's Elixir that no one knew how to use anyway and Frediey's head. Frediey missed his head.

Such a display of power got Maxiey thinking. Maxiey decided he would leave the caves and live amongst humans. And so, Maxiey the hobbe left with nothing more than a can do attitude and a hobo pack full of raw meat. No one noticed him go; they were all too busy discussing whether or not the focus rock looked like Trixie the Pixie if you looked at it sideways and squinted with your left eye.

Maxiey had never been outside the Hobbe Cave in his life. The bright sunlight all but blinded him and the forest around him was very colourful, nothing like the caves of home. The world was alien to little Maxiey, but it was also enticing.

Maxiey was ready to start his life as a human. There was just one problem.


	2. Darkwood's Not a Great Wood

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from fable.

Maxiey had no idea where the nearest town was.

Without a map, Maxiey decided to ask directions. As there was no one and no other talking face carved out of an inanimate object around, Maxiey the hobbe decided to ask the Demon Door.

"I need to see your combat multiplier get even higher before I swing ajar," the door said once Maxiey approached.

Maxiey grunted.

"Why do you want to find the nearest town?" the Demon Door asked with many an emphatic head gesture.

Maxiey grunted.

"That's a stupid idea, even for a hobbe."

Maxiey grunted.

"Fine, fine, keep your shirt on. I mean your dirty rags. Whatever. Oakvale is to the south, through the creepy-looking cave entrance there that takes you to Darkwood. Bowerstone South is all the way through Greatwood.

Maxiey grunted.

"You sure you want to go to Bowerstone? Darkwood isn't all that bad really. Just some nasty bandits, people that get sacrificed so they can endure eternal torture, exploding mushrooms and balvarines to worry about. Speaking of balvarines, I have one as a friend. His name is Charlie and he's vegetarian."

Maxiey grunted.

"Seriously. He's strictly vegan. Just carrots, tofu and the odd apple for him. He's the only one of his kind."

Maxiey grunted.

"Fine, go to Bowerstone. Doesn't matter where you go, you're going to end up with your head stuck on a pike anyways."

But Maxiey just grunted and went on his way, not discouraged in the slightest. In fact, Maxiey was almost out of Greatwood when he ran into someone oddly familiar.


	3. Welcome to Bowerstone

**Disclaimer:** I don't own fable.

It was a pixie. This one had a nice orange glow to her skin (achieved with Neutrogena deep clean invigorating foaming scrub with energizing microbeads), baby scorpion minions and an all too familiar giggle.

Maxiey grunted.

"Trixie the Pixie? No, I'm her twin sister, Dixie the Pixie."

Maxiey grunted.

"Trixie is dead?"

Maxiey grunted.

"I must avenge her death! Trixieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!" Dixie the Pixie zoomed away but would return somewhere later in this story.

"Oi, look! There's a hobbe in Greatwood!" exclaimed a very different voice.

The voice belonged to a rowdy, rambunctious nobleman. The more than slightly plump tax collector hopped up and down with excitement with his belly nodding its agreement.

Looking at the fat and wealthy idiot, Maxiey realized he would need a disguise. Maxiey would have to be properly clothed for public appearances so he solved the problem the hobbe way.

Although the clothes did not fit at all but by some miracle managed to stay on Maxiey's body. It was a lucky thing that, besides being the smartest, Maxiey was also the prettiest (or shall we say least ugly) of his kind. The height factor might be a problem, but not a big one. Ha ha, author made a funny.

The guards halted him outside the Bowerstone gates.

"Who goes there?" One guard called. "Oh, it's you, the nobleman. Come back so soon, have you? And sober, too."

Maxiey grunted.

"He meant nothing by it," said the other guard. "You look very smart, sir"

Maxiey grunted.

"Of course not," said the other other guard. "Come right in."

And Maxiey did.

Bowerstone was unlike anything Maxiey had ever seen. The buildings seemed very tall and each family had their own home, their own little, private cave. There were men and women and children all around town.

Maxiey felt very sleepy. He had left at dusk and arrived late into the night. Anxious to have a well-deserved nap, Maxiey searched for a place to sleep. But all the building doors were locked without any faces to talk to and even the crude, wooden hobo-homes were occupied. Maxiey searched all around South Bowerstone and finally found a door he could enter through.

The door was set in the ground and opened up into a perfectly square room containing many barrels of a strange-tasting liquid. It reminded Maxiey a little of the Hobbe Cave. Making himself comfortable, he hunkered down and was soon fast asleep.


	4. Something Witty

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

"Oi, who is that?"

"I think it's the nobleman."

Maxiey awoke to two voices. One was male and the other was extremely feminine. He opened his eyes to find the owners of the voices standing over him.

"Good morning, sir," said the female. Like all the other females in Bowerstone, she had short hair, awkward clothes and eyes lighter than should be possible. She also had an annoyingly high-pitched voice. "He looks a lot different now after all that beer, doesn't he?"

"That's a matter of opinion, ain't it?" The man looked to be the tavern owner. He had a dirty apron stretched to breaking point over a very large stomach and a bushy moustache that made him look like a walrus. "Speaking of beer, you owe me a lot of money."

Maxiey grunted.

"Yes, you did. You bought all the beer I had and drank it in one sitting even though you know all citizens in every town are weak, slow and notorious for not being able to hold their liquor well. You were already drunk after two and you went and drank fifty! You gained twenty pounds in half an hour. Mind you, you emptied most of that all over my tavern floor, you plump drunkard."

Maxiey grunted.

"Uh huh. And then you were so drunk you bought all my beer kegs and tried to drink directly from the barrel. When you found out they were just trading commodities you bought all the food I had in my stock and ate everything which made you gain another thirty pounds. Then you squandered all the money you had left on playing Card Pairs and then ran away, saying you had more money hidden somewhere in Greatwood. You never paid me at all."

All through the conversation, the female kept puffing up her hair, behaviour that Maxiey found very odd.

Maxiey grunted.

"Well," the tavern owner said, stroking his walrus moustache. "Aside from sounding very sincere, you put up a very good argument there. I suppose you can work at the tavern to pay back all your debt."

Maxiey grunted.

The tavern owner laughed. "You should start right away if you plan on paying it back in your lifetime. I'll be your boss. You can call me Mr. Pooplewagon."

Maxiey grunted.

"Yes, it is short for something. If I told you even my last name I would have to gouge out your ears, chop them into exactly a hundred and two pieces and feed them to the fishes in Bowerstone Quay."

Maxiey grunted.

"I'll take you up to the tavern where you'll be working. Oh and this is my daughter Fran Fran."

Fran Fran batted her eyelashes.

Mr. Pooplewagon wouldn't let Maxiey anywhere near the beer taps so Maxiey was left to server duty with Fran Fran who her father didn't trust anymore than Maxiey. The hobbe wasn't surprised; he'd once spotted Fran Fran trying to lick her nose.


	5. Quick Learner, Quicker Fingers

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

Maxiey's first night on the job consisted of carrying customers' orders on top of a table tied to his head. Although it seemed simple enough, Maxiey had trouble balancing and spilled mashed potato mead and roasted radish rum all over two very disgruntled customers.

But Maxiey learned quickly and by the end of the night, people were complementing him for his excellent service. Most of the customers left by midnight (apparently the tavern was open 24 hours with no shifts), spreading rumours about the new nobleman turned hard-working citizen.

In fact, Maxiey had become very popular among the people of Bowerstone; even some of the children would have been willing to accept him were he to bathe more often or indeed at all. Gossip spread fast throughout the whole town and soon some of the rich folk from the North came down for a drink served by the famous former (or so they thought) tax collector. The tavern was receiving many more customers than usual and Mr. Pooplewagon couldn't have been happier with his new employee.

Maxiey, aside from being an excellent server, was also an exceptional phenomenon at Card Pairs. Maxiey's deft little hobbe hands flipped cards with blinding speed and incredible precision.

"I know what you should do!" yelled a drunken trader from a corner. "Pooplewagon, you should send that little server of yours to the Card Pairs Championship at the Guild."

The crowd cheered raucously at this suggestion.

"Well what do you think?" Mr. Pooplewagon asked the little server of his.

"I think he should stick his head in a pickle jar while tap dancing!" yelled the drunken trader again.

The crowd cheered raucously at this suggestion.

"I was asking Maxiey, who's chosen alter ego as a human has not been properly mentioned before this point."

The crowd cheered raucously at this…comment.

Maxiey grunted.

The crowd cheered raucously. They just cheered.


	6. The Card Pairs Tournament

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

And so Maxiey was given time off his job to compete in the Card Pairs Championship Tournament. He packed a few apples and some raw meat for the journey, which wasn't far at all.

The Card Pairs matches were being held in the Map Room. The giant map of Albion served as the table.

"Er, I haven't really thought this through," said the Guildmaster, scratching his bald forehead. "Ah (you know in that annoying tone he always says it in), we can use the quest cards as the cards. And, um, you can match them with…other cards with similar rewards. Wow, there really are a lot of quest cards. The people of Albion really do like to complain, don't they?"

Even with so many quest cards, there was still only enough to have one game going at a time.

Maxiey's competition consisted of a nervously twitching schoolteacher, Spixie the Pixie, an arrogant guild apprentice that constantly mentioned something about a race to the demon door, the guild tour guide, and Charlie the vegetarian balvarine.

The whole thing was utterly confusing to everyone except the Guildmaster who had had a senior moment and forgotten his own rules. However, after ten minutes of the first match, the Guildmaster proclaimed the winner of the first match to be the twitchy schoolteacher.

"HA HA HA! I OWNED YOU! I AM THE SUPREME RULER OF ALL YOU NOOBS!!!" the twitchy schoolteacher shrieked in an inhumanely high voice.

"I don't understand," said the guild apprentice in disbelief while his friend laughed at him. "I was always the best Card Pairs player in the Guild. You must have cheated. Or you jinxed me. Or maybe I'm stuck on a losing streak. Curse that kid with spiky hair!"

The next match was between Charlie the vegetarian balvarine and the Guild tour guide. Charlie, who kept insisting to suspicious Guild apprentices that he was vegetarian, lost spectacularly. Charlie attached his opponent in what appeared to be a fit of vengeance. It wasn't until Charlie the vegetarian balvarine had become Charlie the vegetarian balvarine corpse that it was revealed Charlie only wanted the carrot in his now deceased opponent's pocket.

"Erm, well now that the only vegetarian balvarine in all of Albion has been killed I guess the tournament is cancelled. Which is a relief because I don't have anything to give the champion except maybe this bubblegum wrapper in the pocket of my robes. It's a week old."

"Well, Maxiey the tavern worker, I guess you should count yourself lucky I don't have to humiliate you publicly," Spixie the Pixie said imperiously.

Maxiey grunted.

"Trixie is dead? Noooooooooooo!" Spixie the pixie flew away to search for her fourth cousin eleven times removed.

"Well, I guess that's the end of that," said the Guildmaster. "Want a bubblegum wrapper? I'll sell it to you for 100 gold."

Maxiey grunted.

"A hundred gold isn't a ridiculous price. Everything in Albion has a ridiculous price. You should see what the guy in the Guild Shop charges. Besides, it's a bargain. It _is _a week old, you know."

Maxiey grunted.

"It's worth it. You can always pull it out and sniff it once in a while. Buttermilk squash flavour. Limited edition. Actually, I think I still have the gum stuck in my moustache."

Leaving the Guildmaster to try and unstuck his facial hair, Maxiey returned to the tavern, perhaps not a Card Pairs Champion, but more popular than any other hobbe in the history of Albion.


	7. Employee of the Month

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

It was early in the morning now and most of the customers had retired to their beds. The only exception was one lady who had been drunk since six the previous morning.

"Maxiey, you've been a very good server these past few years," said Mr. Pooplewagon, his bushy moustache jumping for joy.

"Yes, it's been a few years now. Don't question the outrageous time system in Albion. And since you've been such a good employee, I've decided to promote you."

Maxiey grunted.

"You're welcome. I've decided to consider your debt paid with all the extra customers and such. I'll pay you if you want to continue working."

Maxiey grunted.

"You're not so bad yourself. If you're really staying, then I've decided to promote you to assistant manager. If anything happens to me, you have control of the tavern."

Maxiey grunted.

"No one's told me that in a long time. Fran Fran and I are planning to hold a little party to congratulate you."

Maxiey grunted.

"It's going to be in a few days. In the meantime, we should think of something to serve. Serving nothing but beer may sound nice, but actually isn't. Trust me on that one; I've had past experiences."

Maxiey grunted.

"I've never heard of that dish before. It sounds very delicious. You better get started right away."

Maxiey went to work on his new creation: a signature dish that would revolutionize Bowerstone forever.

With his superior knowledge of culinary skills and a traditional hobbe recipe, Maxiey mixed boiled tofu, minced raw fish, cooking apples, flour, fried carrots and chocolate to give it the extra "umph". Maxiey called it "Maxiey stew" (although Maxiey had brains enough to make his stew, names were not his strongpoint).

Little did Maxiey know that many years later and somewhere far far away, the raw fish, apples and fried carrots would be liquefied to make what we now know as Red Bull.

The whole of Bowerstone simply loved Maxiey's dish.

"It revitalizes body and mind!" the drunken trader yelled out.

The crowd cheered raucously at this observation as the trader sprouted wings and promptly soared out of the building and disappeared to Fisher Creek, living off raw fish and bait worms, only ever to be found in the annals of Albion's history and remembered forever more. Those annals were burned down when Jack of Blades invaded.

Maxiey stew became so popular that Mr. Pooplewagon decided to serve it on normal nights as well, keeping with Albion's tradition of drastically overpricing goods. The dish, while a much sought after delicacy for normal citizens, became a favourite of Albion's heroes and fishing junkies.

Neither Mr. Pooplewagon nor Fran Fran could make Maxiey stew with quite the same "umph" as Maxiey, who was left to run around making his trademark snack.

This caused Maxiey to eventually start smelling of boiled tofu, raw fish, cooking apples, flour, fried carrots and chocolate to give it the extra "umph". Soon enough, people commented on Maxiey's pleasant, refreshing and pleasantly refreshing smell and asked him how he achieved it. Although Maxiey could have said that he was born smelling fantastic (or maybe it's Maybelline), he decided to go the way of the businessman. Using his hobbe skills, Maxiey captured the pleasant, refreshing and pleasantly refreshing smell of Maxiey stew and bottle it to sell.

Little did Maxiey know that many years later and somewhere far away, Maxiey's pleasant, refreshing and pleasantly refreshing smell would be the inspiration for what we now know as cologne.

Like everything else the hobbe touched, it became an instant hit. All of Bowerstone wore the pleasant, refreshing and pleasantly refreshing cologne (or at least the guys anyway) to make Bowerstone the winner of the Most Pleasant, Refreshing and Pleasantly Refreshing Town Award. The title had been previously owned by Oakvale (those Oakvale fools, they don't know nothing about pleasant, refreshing and pleasantly refreshing) and was now the pride of Bowerstone. Everyone credited this win to Maxiey, insisting his new invention still smelled best on him.

It was only a matter of time before Maxiey's pleasant, refreshing and pleasantly refreshing smell began to attract many secret admirers, at whom Fran Fran arranged her rather unattractive features into a scowl.


	8. The Wrath of Morphumax

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

"WHERE IS THE ONE CALLED MAXIEY?" A figure tried to barge down the door before realizing the tavern doors never closed.

This figure was short, not hobbe short but still short for a human, and the slightest bit plump. That however, was far from the oddest thing about this man, for it was a man but you couldn't tell that right away. The stranger was dressed in a variety of mixed-and-matched garments that clashed horribly, had tattoos that were favoured among pregnant women and the most ridiculous haircut Maxiey had ever seen. And Maxiey had seen some very ridiculous haircuts in his day.

Maxiey grunted, not intimidated in the least with this ridiculously dressed and apparently pregnant man. Who would be?

Taking no notice of the people starting to giggle at him behind his back, the ridiculously dressed and apparently pregnant man boomed, "YOU ARE MAXIEY?" Here he laughed in an attempt to be scary but only caused those behind him to giggle all the more. "HOW COULD FRAN FRAN LURVE THE LIKES OF YOU?"

Fran Fran blushed and said, "What are you doing here, Morphumax?" which was really much too late, but we have already established the fact that Fran Fran is none too bright. But at least her emotions were on cue. Stupid people have feelings too, you know.

"HOW CAN YOU DEFEND SOMEONE LIKE HIM?" The ridiculously dressed and apparently pregnant man, who was now revealed to be Morphumax, demanded.

Maxiey grunted.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"What Maxiey said is true!" Fran Fran cried.

"NO IT'S NOT! MOMMY SAID IT LOOKS GOOD ON ME! YOU HURT MY FEELINGS!" Tears started to well up in Morphumax's eyes. "THERE'S DUST IN MY EYES," he sniffled rather loudly as he turned away to wipe his watering eyes.

This took two uncomfortable minutes in which the people behind Morphumax burst out laughing, no longer able to confine themselves to mere giggles.

In an attempt to looks more macho, Morphumax stifled his sobs and bellowed, "YOU WILL PAY FOR STEALING FRAN FRAN FROM ME! I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL IN WHICH I WILL SHOW FRAN FRAN THAT I AM MUCH MORE OF A MAN THAN YOU!"

Maxiey grunted.

"STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT WORDS WILL NEVER HURT ME! TWO DAYS FROM NOW, IN BOWERSTONE JAIL, I WILL CRUSH YOUR TINY SKULL BENEATH MY GUARD BOOTS!" Morphumax laughed once again. Those behind him couldn't stop laughing until the stranger had stormed out of the tavern.

"Don't listen to him, Maxiey," Fran Fran said, apparently finding a speck of dust near the tavern doorway very interesting. Her face was still as red as red meat. And red meat is very red. "I bet you can beat Morphumax no sweat."

Maxiey grunted.


	9. Smelly Leather for a Smelly Hobbe

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

Maxiey had the next day off to shop for equipment for his duel and had a special employee discount on food and potions at the tavern, which was a relief. In Albion, gold was somehow extremely hard to come by, even for certain famous and powerful heroes; even with his salary, Maxiey's budget was about as small as he was.

Practising on distraught traders during his hobbe life had made Maxiey adept with axes and hammers and he was able to find a decent steel hammer for his duel.

By the time Maxiey returned from the tavern, Fran Fran was already upstairs, sleeping with many a frightfully loud and fake snore. Tavern staff never needed to sleep.

"Maxiey, I have something to show you," Mr. Pooplewagon said.

The tavern owner led the hobbe down to the cellar where he had first found Maxiey. Mr. Pooplewagon grabbed the lid of a rather smelly chest the hobbe had never noticed before and lifted it to reveal –

The most horrid smell that had ever found its way up Maxiey's nostrils.

"A leather chest piece," said Mr. Pooplewagon reverently, as though he had never seen a piece of armour made out of treated cow skin. Poor cow. "It used to belong to my long, lost and long lost son before he was lost long ago. Foolish boy, I told him to bring it on his way to see his friend, Charlie the vegetarian balvarine. But he wouldn't listen. Now I have no idea where he could be since he's so long, lost and long lost. Here." Mr. Pooplewagon passed it to Maxiey, who, resisting the urge to gag, accepted it reluctantly.

Either not noticing or blatantly ignoring Maxiey's reaction, Mr. Pooplewagon continued his speech, moustache quivering with emotion. "Use it tomorrow in your fight with Morphumax. You two would have gotten along well if he wasn't so long, lost and long lost. Try it on."

Maxiey shook his head vigorously, not trusting himself to speak. He didn't feel like opening his mouth right now.

"No really. I won't mind," Mr. Pooplewagon assured, mistaking the hobbe's horror for concern for the memory of Fran Fran's long, lost and long lost brother. After all, it wouldn't be Mr. Pooplewagon that would mind if Maxiey put it on.

Feeling like he would regret it for the rest of his hobbe life, Maxiey held his breath and pulled the chest piece over his head. Mr. Pooplewagon seemed impervious to the stink. Maybe it was the moustache.

"You remind me of him a lot," the tavern owner said. "Although he was much more long, lost and long lost than you are. Fran Fran has never been the same since her long, lost and long lost brother was lost long ago. She still thinks he'll come back someday, bless her. But that's enough of my talk. Get some rest, Maxiey. You're off tonight."

Just like the rest of a hobbe's body, Maxiey's lungs were nowhere near as big as humans. Between death and near death by vile stench, Maxiey would take near death by vile stench. But the choice was very close. The hobbe took a small breath and felt as though he would pass out.

Rather hastily, he pulled the nauseating piece of leather off himself, taking in deep breaths. Mr. Pooplewagon didn't seem to notice; Maxiey's boss was still staring starry-eyed into the distance.

Leaving Mr. Pooplewagon to reminisce about his long, lost and long lost son, Maxiey left, seeking a place to s.

His search brought him to Bowerstone Quay. There was a nice dirt circle that Maxiey could have napped on, but he had only just laid down when a bunch of testosterone-pumped, shirtless men came and started whacking each other with their fists. Disgruntled, he settled in a barn. Unfortunately, the constant smack of fists and yells of "Yay!" and "Get him!" kept Maxiey awake until they cleared out. By that time, Maxiey could only get a few hours sleep.

Although hobbes are rumoured to have the emotional sensitivity of dead grass, Maxiey could not help but feel nervous. After a quick bowl of Maxiey stew to revitalize his body and mind, he suited up (using liberal amounts of his own cologne) and went on his way to Bowerstone Jail.


	10. The Wrath of Dixie the Pixie

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

A crowd had gathered to watch the fight, yelling just like the testosterone-pumped, shirtless men in Bowerstone Quay.

Morphumax, the ridiculously dressed and apparently pregnant man was waiting for Maxiey at the top of the hill, carrying what appeared to be a giant meat cleaver on his back.

"NOW I SHALL DEFEAT YOU AND PROVE MYSELF WORTHIER OF FRAN FRAN'S LURVE! IT'S TIME TO D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-DUEL!" Morphumax yelled in true Yami Yugi style.

Raising his meat cleaver high over his head, Morphumax let out a high-pitched war cry and swung his weapon wildly with his eyes closed.

Whatever Maxiey was expecting the ridiculously dressed and apparently pregnant to do, it wasn't this (he was expecting something more bizarre). Maxiey dodged this way and that, light on his quick little hobbe feet, cheered on by the crazed mob.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!" Morphumax continued to scream, still hacking away blindly.

Before Maxiey could get a quick jab to Morphumax's knees, the only part he could reach, a glowing orange ball flew out of the blue, catching the ridiculously dressed and apparently pregnant right on the noggin.

"You killed my twin sister!" Dixie the Pixie shrieked, pulling at Morphumax's absurd haircut.

"OW OW! NO FAIR, YOU FIGHT DIRTY!"

Maxiey grunted.

Dixie the Pixie looked up. "He's not? Well he's close enough anyway."

Maxiey grunted.

Dixie the Pixie picked Morphumax up by his hair and dropped him in the river below the bridge with much relish.

Morphumax surfaced, spluttering. "YOU GOT MY FAVOURITE YET INCREDIBLY HIDEOUS SHIRT WET! I'M TELLING MOMMY. AND SHE'S IN BARGATE PRISON! I WANT MY WATERWINGS!"

Bawling, Maxiey's opponent tried and failed to climb out of the water and instead settled for sulking by the river's edge.

"Morphumax is fleeing," the drunken trader's ninth cousin seven times removed cried. "That means Maxiey has won! Three cheers for Maxiey! Hip hip -"

"Hooray!" exclaimed the crowd.

"I WANT MY WATERWINGS!"

"Hip hip -"

"Hooray!"

"WHERE ARE MY WATERWINGS?"

"Hip hip -"

"Hooray!"

"MOMMMY!" Morphumax shrieked, but no one was listening. Everyone was busy congratulating Maxiey on an amazing victory and insisting on buying him drinks.

Mr. Pooplewagon wanted a private word first.

"Maxiey, I hope that now you've proved your devotion to Fran Fran, you'll treat her well even though she might not be the sharpest tool in the shop. That girl lurves you so much there might as well be a giant heart over her head. Stupid people have feelings too. Can you do that, Maxiey?"

Maxiey grunted.

"Good."

Maxiey approached Fran Fran, as nervous as he was before the duel.

Maxiey grunted.

Fran Fran sniffled as the crowd "awwww"ed. "That's so sweet. You have such a way with words. I lurve you too!"


	11. Help Wanted

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

The tavern had never been as crowded in the afternoon as it was today. But of course, Maxiey's victory over the ridiculously dressed and apparently pregnant Morphumax was a cause for celebration, as well as a cause for a picking-up-things-with-your-toes contest.

Everyone stumbled around, tripping over each other in their haste to buy Maxiey a drink, telling the hobbe to take it easy. Unfortunately, the more drinks people ordered for him, the more drinks Maxiey had to stumble around, tripping over people to serve. The irony of that, however, was lost on the citizens, who were soon stumbling around, tripping over each other in a drunken stupor.

"Maxiey, we're running out of apples," Mr. Pooplewagon said.

Maxiey grunted.

"No, no, stay here. You've earned all the attention," the big-bellied boss insisted as the people of Bowerstone continued to stagger around, drunk and not paying the least mind to Maxiey. "I'll go get some more from the Guild."

Maxiey grunted.

"It's not stealing, per say. After all, they're just on the ground. All I do is pick them up."

Maxiey grunted.

"That doddery old fool? He may have a weird patch of discoloured skin that could be some warped tattoo of a whale, but that don't stop him from getting old. He used to be one of the best warriors in Albion, but nowadays he just has bad eyesight, bladder problems, and a weird patch of discoloured skin that could be some warped tattoo of a whale. He'd forget his own name of it wasn't stitched on his underwear. He won't notice a thing."

Maxiey grunted.

"I shouldn't be gone long." The tavern owner walked out, presumably to the Guild, leaving Maxiey at the helm.

But as the day wore on and began to turn into night, the citizens returned home and it was apparent that Mr. Pooplewagon was gone for much longer than intended. And as the night wore on and began to turn into morning, Maxiey became worried. What if some unimaginably horrible incident had befallen his boss? He had heard that the Guild kept a rare castrating mountain monkey somewhere in the building purely for intellectual interest. Shuddering at the very thought, Maxiey realized he would have to search for Mr. Pooplewagon himself.

Leaving the tavern in the far from capable hands of Fran Fran would be as good as lighting the whole place on fire, so Maxiey put up a public notice about a job vacancy.

As most of the Bowerstone citizens were stumbling around, tripping over each other while having balvarine-sized hangovers, the turnout was far from favourable. The only four applicants were a chicken farmer in a stuffed chicken suit, a bodybuilder named Krunk the Nimrod, a guard called Bobbers, and the twitchy schoolteacher.

As Maxiey wanted to start the search as soon as possible (he'd heard nasty things about the castrating mountain monkey), he decided to have an open interview with all four of them at once.


	12. Job Interview With the Rtarts

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Fable.

Maxiey grunted.

The chicken farmer answered first. "This chicken suit is made out of real feathers, you know. I plucked every single one of these from my own chickens."

"That doesn't answer the question, birdbrains," the guard, Bobbers, sneered as though his game script only allowed such woeful insults. "I've got loads of skills that would make me a good tavern worker. I'm responsible and I know how to fine people and attack them if they don't pay rather than arrest them. Not to mention a pompous, arrogant attitude."

"Krunk should get job because Krunk has big muscles. Bigger muscles than anybody," said who else but Krunk the Nimrod.

The twitchy schoolteacher responded in his usual manner. "I'VE GOT MAD SKILLS! AND I WILL USE MY MAD SKILLS TO OWN ALL YOU NOOBS!"

Maxiey grunted.

"I was human ten years ago. But in a terrible accident involving a lit candle and combustible pixie dust, my chicken feather suit was melted and fused to my skin. Now I'm just a freakish half chicken, half human hybrid," the chicken farmer said sadly. "On the other hand, the feathers of my chickens were curiously magical and didn't burn. I guess that makes my chickens curiously invincible. Which is a good thing because morons keep kicking them all over the place for no reason."

"Well, I'm obviously very responsible and dedicated to my job. To get to this interview, I even got an anonymous stranger to cover for me because there were no available guards. The chap was dressed in dark clothes and had black eyes, if I remember clearly. He seemed like a nice lad. So after that, I am obviously the most qualified candidate."

"Krunk will prove his dedication by lifting the table!" And indeed Krunk lifted the table, neither impressing nor amusing anyone but himself.

"I CAN OWN ALL YOU NOOBS AT BEING DEDICATED TO MY JOB! I CAN OWN YOU NOOBS AT ANYTHING! AHA HA HA! I HAVE MAD SKILLS! BURN! COLD! DRY! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOBS!"

Krunk who had just realized he had been insulted by the schoolteacher (the first time, not this time), roared with rage and picked up a chair, stepping on the chicken farmer's stuffed chicken feet in the process. There was a great squawk and a cloud of decade old chicken feathers. In the rather fluffy chaos, Krunk the Nimrod dropped the chair he was about to throw on his muscular toes. The twitchy schoolteacher screeched about noobs and hero dolls while the guard brandished a sword and waved it about, demanding order in a thickly accented voice. Maxiey dived for cover beneath the counter, a tactic that was not necessary considering the hobbe's height. The guard tackled the chicken farmer, who was pecking Krunk the Nimrod with his stuffed beak. All three tumbled to the ground. The farmer squirted free of the suit that had imprisoned him for so long.

"I am free!" He screamed gleefully, running away in nothing but his patriotic skivvies.

Once the feathers had settled, Maxiey decided to name the new employee to prevent any further damage and dusty-feather-caused allergies.

After a short, unhelpful discussion with Fran Fran, Maxiey named the twitchy schoolteacher the most suitable (or rather least destructive) replacement.

"HA! I POWNED ALL YOU NOOBS! BOW DOWN TO YOUR MASTER! BURN! COLD! DRY!" the wild-eyed schoolteacher shrieked, pulling at his hair. This was followed by a strange war cry that could have been a birdcall.

Bobbers escorted Krunk the Nimrod away from the premises for vandalism. Both were very disappointed.

Maxiey quickly showed the newest tavern worker around before letting him take over.

With that matter resolved, Maxiey the hobbe left for the Guild of Heroes, unsure of what horrible horrors lay inside.

**A/N: **Apologies for it taking so long, but adjusting to Grade 9 is harder than I thought…especially when you take Grade 10 math.


	13. A Hero's Hangover

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Fable. But I do own Fable the game. Kapeesh? Kapeesh. Yeesh.

* * *

The Guild was empty. 

At least in the sense that Maxiey saw no people around upon first glance. His second glance revealed many other things besides signs of life. And his third glance revealed things he wished he had never seen in his first, second, or third glance.

There was a green glowing platform to one end (workout-grade abs in mere seconds!) and handsome oak bookcases filled with handsome-covered books ("Nasty Pus Bubbles in Nasty Places and What to Do About Them") and other volumes with far less respectable titles. Hobbe heads were nailed to the walls in random places (Maxiey shuddered) with varying expressions in varying degrees of grotesqueness.

Maxiey wondered what could possibly have happened to make all the stouthearted Guildspeople flee. The Guild had withstood bandit attacks and bar fights gone wrong, so what terrifying horror could have caused such a catastrophe? The answer was waiting for him in the mess hall: a giant brass cage with its door hanging open.

The castrating mountain monkey had been set loose.

Treading much more carefully now, he ran as fast as his Hobbe legs could carry him to Maze's tower. The Guild master might be a doddery old fool with a weird patch of discoloured skin that could be some warped tattoo of a whale, but as far as Maxiey could tell, Maze was 100 sane and weird patch of discoloured skin-free. If anyone knew what was going on, Maxiey hoped it was Maze.

Huffing and puffing his way up the spiral steps, he finally climbed onto the landing, only to find that the doorway to the Guild hero's quarters was blocked by a desk, drawers, and various other random pieces of furniture the author doesn't feel like listing individually.

The strenuous work of lifting said desk, drawers, and various other random pieces of furniture the author doesn't feel like listing individually took many hours of hard labour. Maxiey was glad that it is a well-known fact that castrating mountain monkeys cannot climb stairs, meaning he was relatively safe.

As the last piece of furniture was removed, he found Maze fast asleep with a beer in one hand and his other hand in his mouth.

Maze opened his eyes and then squeezed them shut again. "Avo, why are those lights so bright? They burn! Turn them off, turn them off!"

Maxiey grunted.

"The sun? Is it morning already? Damn, my head hurts. Got any pain pills?"

Maxiey grunted.

Maze opened his eyes and then squeezed them shut again. "Geez, you're ugly."

Maxiey grunted.

"You want to know what happened last night? Alright, alright, I'll tell you. So me and the Guildmaster are pretty damn old, but we figure our livers can handle a few more beers before they give out. And what's the use of a liver if you're not going to have some beers? But then we end up having this drinking contest and this wicked party in the mess hall. Then someone makes a crack about a touchy subject with the Guildmaster and he goes bonkers. I mean, more bonkers than he usually is. See, he didn't take his meds that day because of this bet we had. So then he let the castrating mountain monkey loose. All the male apprentices rand screaming off somewhere and all the female apprentices ran screaming off to lead lives of dignity and independence, free of sexual prejudice."

Maxiey grunted.

"Well what does it look like I did? It's a well-known fact that castrating mountain monkeys can't climb stairs. Besides, I still had some booze stashed in my desk."

Maxiey grunted.

"The furniture? Oh, that's just decoration."

Maxiey grunted.

Maze just shrugged. "It makes sense when you're drunk."

Maxiey grunted.

"Nope, I didn't see no Mr. Pooplewagon. He never came to the Guild. Why don't you ask Larry the talking moonfish where he is? Larry the talking moonfish knows a lot of things, even the true meaning of life. And he'll tell you that too if you just ask nicely. He swims around in Fisher Creek, blowing bubbles and making ripples."

Maxiey grunted.

"No problemo. So why are you looking for this Mr. Pooplewagon anyway?"

Maxiey grunted.

"Oh my Avo! Please, take me with you to your tavern of boozy goodness. Show me the ways of beer, beer, and more beer! I want to work at the Bowerstone tavern! Take meeeeeeeeeee!"

Maxiey grunted.

"Yes! Now I shall learn the secrets of beer, beer, and more beer and never have to be sober again!"

Maxiey grunted.

"It isn't a weird patch of discoloured skin that could be some warped tattoo of a whale, it's a weird patch of liver spots that marks the victims of the castrating mountain monkey."

* * *

Author's Note: It has just come to the author's attention that, while this is not a new chapter, the real chapter 10, containing the fight with Morphumax the Momma's Boy, has been now sneakily slipped in. This occured when the author was renaming the chapters (for complete lack of anything better to do) and noticed that while her story only has 12 chapters, her personal documents are up to 13. It is with feelings like a Rtart that the author begs your forgiveness as readers and hopes she hasn't done anything else quite as Rtarty and now understands the importance of the 'Live Preview' button. 


	14. The Guild Menace

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Fable and I certainly don't own the character of Ebony/Enoby Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. Goodness knows, I don't want to.

**A/N:** Finally updated. Sorry for the wait. Now call off your flood-infested coupus (corpus?) beasts!

Fable 2 looks so coooooooooool D

* * *

Although Maxiey had found the information he was looking for, he searched the Guild for survivors. Maze was not pleased at all, but followed nonetheless.

There was no one upstairs or in the Guild shop. There was no one in the gardens or behind the Demon Door. There wasn't even anyone in the decorated-but-completely-unfurnished Chamber of Fate that, for some unfathomable reason, was concealed behind a giant bookshelf.

Just as Maxiey's enthusiasm fizzled out ("You know what else fizzles?" said Maze. "Beer!"), there came a series of bangs, booms, crashes, smashes, gongs and bing-a-ling bongs from the Servant's Quarters.

"Egads!" Maze gasped. "What was that?"

Man and hobbe approached the entrance cautiously. Maze leapt in first with a fearsome war cry, brandishing his staff of wizarding goodness before him. But when he did, he found that the beast inside could not be defeated by any mortal means, staff of wizarding goodness or not.

It was the castrating mountain monkey!

No it wasn't, but I bet that's what you were expecting it to be.

It was a servant girl with blue eyes like limpid tears and more makeup than a gothic clown, though not done quite as tastefully. Her hair, which could have been mistaken for a skunk carcass dipped in pink lemonade, clashed horribly with her pale white skin. She wore a black corset with lace, a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets, and black combat boots. One of her hands was over her head as if clutching a dubiously invisible can of cola.

Maxiey grunted.

The servant girl frowned. "How can you see me when I'm using my invisibility coke?"

Maxiey grunted.

"Ah, I see. Ha ha, get it? Laugh at my incredible wit!"

Maxiey grunted.

"No, that's just the raw steak I shoved down my Marilyn Manson shirt."

"Oh, I get it," said Maze as if the answer made perfect sense. Which it did to him.

Maxiey grunted.

"I'm Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way."

Maxiey grunted.

"I am here to await my one true love, Gerardicus Way, who is in no way the inspiration for my name. He is going to play a concert here in exactly two months."

Maxiey grunted.

Ebony gave a sigh as loud as her speech and gestured to a giant poster taped to the wall above a black coffin lined with pink lace. It depicted a rather angsty-looking bard. "Gerardicus Way is my destiny and whom I lust after with the voracious fire of a thousand suns."

Maze gasped. "Is that _my_ coffin? Am I really dead? I am, aren't I? And who picked out that ghastly colour scheme?"

"That's my coffin that I got from Hot Topic. I need it because I'm a gothic vampire witch."

"Don't talk to me! You're dead! I'm dead! Ahhhhhhh!" Maze tore off his clothes, leaving only his patriotic skivvies for censorship's sake. This fanfiction is rated K+ after all. He ran, virtually stark naked, in the direction of the Guild Woods.

Maxiey grunted.

"I can do anything I want to. Because I am Enoby Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way!"

Maxiey grunted.

"That's my name too. The two are used interchangeably."

Maxiey grunted.

"It's Ebony," Enoby interrupted.

Maxiey grunted.

"I don't know. First everyone ran into the mess hall with swords, screaming about some monkey. Then they came running out of the mess hall without swords, screaming about some monkey."

Maxiey grunted.

"Into the Guild Woods."

With a parting grunt, Maxiey the fearless hobbe left for the Guild Woods.

* * *

If you don't get the "My Immortal" reference, google "worst fanfiction" and click on the first result you see. You will either laugh or cry. I did both.


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